


Devotion

by trillingstar



Category: Oz (1997)
Genre: Angst, Community: 50kinkyways, Dark, Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:38:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trillingstar/pseuds/trillingstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keller & Beecher & rituals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt #1: rituals, at [50kinkyways](http://community.livejournal.com/50kinkyways) &amp; for [Oz Porn Tuesdays](http://trillingstar.livejournal.com/182013.html).
> 
> Thank you to [Ozsaur](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsaur) for brainstorming this prompt with me.

  
Keller makes all of the incisions himself, sterilizing a blade with fire and then nicking the side of his foot, careful to keep all of the lines far below his pinky toe. Nudging the flaps of skin to the side, he can cut more precisely, pushing hard enough to leave a thin scar but not so hard that he risks bleeding out in the motel bathroom.

Best time to do this is after the leisurely ride back to the room on his motorcycle when he's still high on adrenaline, after a succession of clubs and bars and uppers, after he'd fucked and sucked with abandon, after he'd tucked his boys in for the night under a layer of wet leaves and sod.

There's one line for every man he's killed, and there are eight lines when he gets to Oz.

~

Toby's got a good eye for possibilities, and that's something that Keller appreciates. He's sprawled on the bottom bunk, propped up on pillows and his elbows, his feet in Toby's lap. Toby's dragged the chair to the foot of the bed, and he's sitting on both the chair and the mattress, one foot on the floor, his other leg bent and open.

The best part is Toby's rubbing Keller's feet, massaging the ball of his foot, his fingers tickling the back of Keller's heel.

"I used to do this for Gen," Toby said, the first time. "She said I should have been a massage therapist."

"Mighta turned out different," Keller offered, and shrugged when Toby glared. "Different doesn't always mean bad."

~

Toby's touching the lines on the side of Keller's foot, stroking them in turn. Keller never aligned them - sets of cuts trumpet self-infliction - and he likes the haphazard artfulness of the seemingly random scars. He's the only one who knows which ridge belongs to which man. He had to keep them around somehow; as much as he wanted to forget them, he couldn't, won't, doesn't ever want to forget the feeling, the freedom and the crash of lust, and oh god, the noises that they made when he touched them with a knife. Their spiraling voices breaking in choir around him.

Now he walks over them every day.

Now Toby runs his fingers over the scores, tracing them delicately, making Keller shudder and Toby thinks it's because he's ticklish. Thinks Keller's erection is because Toby's touching him, writing promises on his skin.

~

"What are these from?" Toby asks, the second time. He looks thoughtful.

Keller stares down the length of his body, flicking his gaze up to Toby's face. "I don't remember," he lies smoothly. The look on Toby's face means he knows Keller's lying but he's not going to say it.

Keller nudges his bare toes against Toby's balls, pushing at them through his boxers. Toby's hands tighten on Keller's foot, his mouth falling open slightly. Keller bites his lip. Carefully, he moves his foot up, the sole shoved against Toby's cock, rubbing, counting the seconds, waiting for Toby's groan.

There it is. Toby doesn't hold back for as long anymore.

~

"...Three. Four. Five," Toby says, hand wrapped around the heel of Keller's foot, nimble fingers outlining the scars.

Each time he touches one of the lines, Keller's dick gets harder and he clenches his fists tighter in the sheets.

"Siiiix," Toby drawls. "Maybe you were wasted and dropped a bottle."

For the past few massages, Toby's been theorizing on the origin of the scars.

"Maybe," Keller says noncommittally. "Sounds more like your thing."

Toby digs his fingernails into the sole of Keller's foot and Keller comes, the force of his orgasm rocking him up off of the bed, arching upwards, gasping for breath.

"Wow," Toby says, his eyes wide. "I'll remember that."

~

Toby stops theorizing and focuses on other ways to get Keller off by caressing his feet. He'll blow through a quick foot rub and then concentrate on the scars, tracing them, his other hand gripping Keller's ankle. Then he'll count them off slowly, petting each one individually. Sometimes he scratches at them with his fingernails, or rubs Keller's foot against the material of his pants or the raspy wool blanket on the bed. Once, he lifted Keller's foot and pressed his mouth to it, his lips on the lines that Keller made, kissing Keller's ghosts.

Keller thinks about the one who kissed the top of his foot and begged him to stop.

Keller says, "Jesus fuck, Toby. Do that again," so Toby does.

It's bliss, Toby's ignorance, his oblivion, the secret and his kills all rolled into something weightless, freeing and shivery good. He's not sure he'd survive the dark, vast thrill if Toby ever figures it out.

Keller's familiar with Toby's disenchantment, knows the ache of betrayal won't be forgotten. But Toby manages to overcome it, they both do, mostly. That itch, the greed for their basest needs, for touch and lust and safety - that won't go away; Keller counts on it.

He loves Toby's horror too much now, he can't imagine... there are too many possibilities: Toby knows and concedes anyway; Toby knows and won't give in until Keller makes him; Toby knows but accepts it, tries or wants to understand; Toby knows and _loves it_ -

~

Tonight Toby didn't bother with the chair. He's sitting on the floor, hands wrapped around Keller's foot. Keller's leaning, one arm tucked behind his head, boxers pushed down to his thighs, and his hand fisted around his cock. He watches Toby's head move in shadow and feels Toby's hot breath on his toes, but he's unprepared for the sensation of Toby's tongue skittering against the seams of tight, damaged skin.

"Toby," Keller chokes out, awed. "God."

Toby's response is to drag his teeth over Keller's skin, licking furiously, and Keller sits up far enough to see the motion of Toby's arm working as he jerks off.

Keller groans with excitement, his cock throbbing. "Fuck, you're fucking killing me," he rasps.

"Good," Toby says, his mouth moving up the side of Keller's foot, sucking and kissing. "You already had your chance."

Keller stares, heart thundering in his chest, but Toby's face is hidden in the gloom.


End file.
